Heart Aches by the Numbers A Fallout Story
by azseanster
Summary: A cunning mans story of service, friendship, honor, romance, and most importantly getting his sweet heart back.
1. Starting with heart ache one

CHAPTER 1: Starting with Heartache one...

"Wake up ya damn fool." I heard in that lovely voice. I pulled the leather hat from my face and got a full blast of the desert suns powerful shine. I put my hat on and sat up. I was in the back of a passenger cart, drawn by cattle. In front of me sat my beautiful sweet heart, Marie. She had black curly hair and eyes darker then coal. Her skin was brownish-white, which made since because her father was black and her mother was white. Still, her skin had the most perfect mixture of color.

"We're almost too Good Springs," her sweet southern accent hummed "so get the bags packed 'n' ready for us to bug out, we're hiring these guys per hour y'know." I smiled and nodded. She had her usual serious look on her face. I just kept smiling and staring. God it was good to be alive. After a minute of staring, she smiled, rolled her eyes, grabbed the sides of my head and kissed me on the nose. I leaned back against the wooden wall and began to pack our 3 suitcases.

I looked down at my clothing while packing. A worn out leather vest, a dirty orange plaid shirt, a red bandana, dirty jeans and cowboy boots, along with my cowboy hat. Yup, I was a rancher all right. My skin was well tanned from constant work, but according to Maria it was "sexy", along with the stubble on my face that could never quite grow into a full beard.

I set the three leather suit cases aside and leaned back. I pressed my feet against Maries and she pushed hers back. We let out a random laugh that grew louder and louder. Actually, it was so heavy that I had my arms around her and she had her arms around me, both of us red in the face. We both slowly stopped laughing. We were there, kneeling on the dusty wood of a mercenary cart. We locked eyes and I stared into those shiny black holes of beauty, her hair shining in the desert light. I leaned closer, as did she. I could feel her breath on my lips. That's when it happened.

All I can remember is waking up on the ground and looking up at the cart. It was on its side, a wheel splintered and a black mark scorching the ground where an explosion had gone off. I got up and heard a whistling noise. An explosion went off next to me, tossing me into the brush. I slammed into pointed rock and gravel, feeling blood begin to pour from my forehead. I was on my back, staring at the sun. I crawled in the ditch as gun fire and explosions rippled through the sky. I could hear soldiers yelling at other soldiers, radios buzzing, even a few bullet shells hitting the dead earth below. Nothing could tear me from the one thought in mind; Marie.

I crawled further through the gutter of rock shards and tumble weeds. I jumped up and ran over to our transportation. I saw Marie behind cover, a shocked look on her face. One mercenary had his hand around her arm, the other holding a 357. revolver. The other man was tending to the other mercenary who had been shot in the abdomen. I ran over and the mercenary with Marie swapped her to me. She wrapped her tiny arms tightly around me, crushing me almost. I did the same, brushing her hair back. Still, gun fire exploded in the empty desert. I ducked back into the wood, kneeling. She did the same.

"Marie, if something bad happens, I love you, and I," she protested as I talk, wanting me to shut up, tears in her eyes "will always make sure you are safe. I will kill any man who dares harm you." My voice and charm had worked. She pressed tightly against my chest and held there, the mercenaries working hard to patch up their wounded partner. I took my 9MM out of its holster and racked a round into the chamber. The click-clack of the gun gave me a strangely pleasurable shiver. Marie looked terrified. I gave her an assuring kiss on the forehead and told her to stay put. I grabbed the binoculars from my satchel and aimed it at the gun fire that was coming from the side we didn't have cover on. I saw, behind sand bags, men wearing tan armor. It was a bit puffy and their helmets were flat and resembled safari hats. They had a bear on their chest plate with two heads, and some of them had lettering, but I couldn't read it.

I then put the binoculars through the cracks in the side of the cart. I could see men wearing red armor, leather chest plates and red kilts. I had heard about these guys, Caesar's Legion. Heartless bastards. "Ok, let's get these two to the NCR, they'll help us." one of the mercenaries said, throwing the wounded man over his shoulder. "You two, follow me." he said. He started to sprint to the men in tan. They didn't fire on us, ignored us really. I followed behind, the last mercenary behind me. The NCR were behind sand bags, a solid ridge behind them. And that's about where it all ended.

As we were half way across the sand, Marie starting to lose her breath. I had to tug her along half the time. Bullets hit the areas around our feet, meaning that Caesar's Legion was aiming for US! We were almost to the sand bags, almost home free, until I saw a black form rise from the ridge, then another, and another. Before I knew it, there were 10 Caesar's Legion on the ridge, holding assault rifles, sniper rifles, and grenade launchers. I pointed but the NCR ignored. Fools mistake. A wall of yellow and orange shot out above the ridge line. A bullet hit the mercenary behind me in the neck, sending him on the ground. The NCR behind the sand bags were getting slaughtered. One man on a machine gun got a bullet to his head. I could see his brain matter all over the sand bags. He had a death grip on the gun too. I heard Marie scream before I started to forget.

A bullet clipped me in the leg. I dropped to one leg. I looked behind me and saw several charging men. Marie tried to tug me along. I got on my feet and felt a blunt SLAM against the back of my head. I fell into the dirt and could hear Marie give a blood curdling scream. I saw 3 men start dragging her away, her legs and arms flailing and kicking. I draw my gun, laying on my belly, and started to shoot. I got one man in the side of the neck, forcing the bastard to bleed out in the sand. I was aiming at the other before I saw a boot kick my hand. My fingers stung with broken pain. I looked up and saw a figure, a shadow in the sun. I saw a boot coming to my face, and before I knew it, I woke up in a cot.


	2. Waking up

Chapter 2: Welcome to the NCR

I was wearing only grey boxers and a white T shirt. I looked around and saw other injured men, most of them way worse than me. A few of them were sleeping, but a fair amount were clutching their stomachs, arms, or legs and groaning. I started to sit up and once I put my foot on the ground I felt a tingle in my leg. I looked over at the black skin on my left leg, where the bullet grazed and burned me. It had been treated, but no cover was on it. I took a hand mirror from the metal box next to my cot. I looked in it and saw my face, but I had already grown a short beard and had gauze wrap on my head. I was confused, how could I grow a beard in one day. Where am I? Where's... Marie.

A man wearing that tan puffy armor came over, and I could read the text clearly on his chest plate; NCR. He extended a hand and I, hesitatingly, grabbed it. He got me on my feet and I saw the red cross on his shoulder; He was a medic by the looks of it. "Hello civilian, you took a nasty fall to the head. You've been out cold about a week now," it was then I started to feel the empty hunger in my stomach "and also, my C.O. wants to speak with you." He lead me to a metal wardrobe by the tents exit. He pulled out a stiff brown shirt and beige cargo pants, along with grey socks and black combat boots. I put the clothing on, feeling normal in the clothing, and was led onward from the tent.

Outside I got a feeling of my location. Apparently, I was at an NCR camp near New Vegas, recently established. It was a large camp, too, but hosted in the middle of the desert. It was here to deal with a gang of escaped convicts who called themselves the "Powder Gangers". I saw men and women in those puffy armored outfits firing assault rifles, hunting rifles, and so on at targets with Caesar's Legion propaganda. Soldiers were walking back and forth from a larger tent that appeared to be the mess hall. Along with about ten blocks of living quarter tents (as I said, this is a very large camp) was a metal shack building, which I assumed was this medics C.O.s.

Two men with rifles opened the doors for me. I stepped inside and the medic stopped following me, returning to whatever duties he had. It was slightly cool inside the tent, strangely. I saw puffy shirted men and women on radios, mostly doing status reports and so on. I walked down the hall way and opened two double doors. A man with a thick black beard wearing a ranger outfit sat at a desk, looking papers over. He looked up at me and set them down. "You must be the lucky survivor." he said in a southern accent which reminded me of Marie.

"I am sir. What is it you wanted with me?" I asked closing the door behind me. "Son, I'll cut to the chase. Your girl is in Caesar's hands, and without our help, it's impossible to get to her. You show potential and I heard about you being from DC. That's some nasty shit boy, you've probably got more back bone than half the recruits here and I need a soldier like you." I was hesitant, I wanted Marie back in my arms more than anything, but the west wasn't my home. At least not yet. Why do I care about these people? "Sir, can you give me a day to think about it." I asked kindly. "Of course son, the mess hall is right across from this tent. Have a nice hot meal, go get some rests, and report back in the morning with your decision." I gave him a nod and shook his gloved hand. I left the tent and walked over to the mess hall. It was filled with loud chatter and at least 30 tables. When I grabbed a tray, all the soldiers moved aside for me to pass through, many of them apologizing for my loss. They clearly have no idea what I'll do to the man who actually caused my loss.

"What'll it be civilian?" the cook asked. "Some sugar bombs, a Nuka-cola, and some Brahmin Steak." I asked. He set down potato chips, Sunset Sarsaparilla, and a Brahmin Steak. He knew that's not what I ordered. "Try that Sunset, it's ten times better then Nuka-Cola. Trust me." I trust him and went over to an empty table, sitting down and preparing my food. Many people would walk by and say sorry, but no one wanted to start conversation with me or sit by me. It was fine though, I needed my alone time. My thinking space. I had to break down my situation and figure out how to handle it... Over the course of that day I mainly sat and thought, I read a book for a bit, got a tan and all that. I thought. Hard. Then it came to me that there was only ONE way to get my sweet Marie back. The next morning I marched into the rangers office, slammed my ham down on his desk, and said "Sign me up."


	3. A cold welcome to hell

Chapter 3: A cold welcome to hell...

The covered wagon bounced from side to side. I looked at the faces of the other recruits. Most of them were young boys, maybe even a few under 17. I knew why they were here. The NCR pays good, real good, and most of these kids probably have families to support. The others probably have to support a chem or drug addiction. Hell, maybe the rest are actually here to "fight the honest fight". Almost all were from California, which of course made damn good since. New California Republic, NCR. That made since. Anyway, the carts bouncing along the road. We're going to some prison in good springs. Because they needed troops added to their ranks daily, what would happen is they'd send guys like us on suicide missions like this. Anyone who came out alive, la-de-da, got to become an NCR grunt. We were all dressed in basic tan puffy armor, armed with assault rifles and 3 back up magazines of ammo, as well as a trench knife. I tied the helmet tightly onto my head and racked a round into my assault rifle. The others watched me, barely knowing how to load their gun. However, one tan guy across from me seemed to know what he was doing. He was wearing a chest plate and a white T shirt, his puffy shirt tied around his waist, and tan cargos. He also had a straw cow boy hat on his head which made him stand out. He was using a double barrel shotgun and had a 357. revolver on his hip, clearly he was not your regular recruit. "Hey, where you from?" I asked the man.

In a strong southern accent, he responded "I'm from L.A. partner, born and raised. This here's my daddies shot gun and his revolver, he was an NCR ranger. Got killed by Caesar himself. I reckon I might prove myself in his eyes... Given that he went to heaven, that is.."

"Should he of?" I asked.

"He did some things when he was my age he regrets 'n' since there ain't no priests he could get to, he had to carry the burden of what he'd done gotten himself into."

I nodded and leaned against the cart, my rifle in my lap. It was 5 minutes later when the man driving the caravan yelled "5 minutes 'till we arrive at the prison. Remember; some of them are political prisoners, try not to kill them. Also remember that some of Caesar's Legion are hold up in there and I do NOT even need to tell you how fucking vicious they are. Get ready men." I gripped my rifle tightly, waiting for the first gun shots. Through the holes in the cloth covering our wooden cart, I could see about 3 other caravans like ours, 10 men in each. This... Was going to get violent. Very quickly. I did hear the first gunshot, which happened to be our driver. The cart swerved side to side, one guy even tumbled out of the back and onto the dirt. I stood to go see if he was okay and I felt and heard an explosion. The cart flipped through the air 3 times and slammed against the ground. It rolled down a short hill and I could see everyone bouncing and slamming against each other and the walls. I was thrown against a metal bar before it stopped. I just laid there, hurting everywhere. People started to get up, my cowboy friend ordering them to move. He grabbed my vest and pulled me to my feet and pushed me out, him close behind.

The black night sky was exploding with red fire. The whole region had been turned into a war zone against these escaped convicts. I marched alongside the other 10 men, all of us shaken up and soar. The cow boy was running alongside me, shot gun in hand. "What's the plan?" I asked.

"We're going in through the main gate, the other two caravans should of already set up a defense line of sand bags for us."

"Quite frankly, the first time I saw sand bags and the NCR, it did-"

"Cut the chatter, we've got a job to do." he said, the prison coming into sight. There were spot lights giving the prison a glow. It was mainly one big building with a large fenced in quart yard. I slid behind the sand bags we had set up. Bullets were flying every which way and I could see one or two dead bodies. I peered over the sand bags and saw the entrance, 4 men firing assault rifles at us, meanwhile to our left were about 14 morons with batons and small arms pistols charging us. I popped from cover quickly and fired at the 4 men. I saw one get hit in the chest, causing him to throw his gun in the air and fall onto the ground. I went to aim at the other one until a bullet hit my chest plate. I flew against the dirt, making a loud "oof!". The cow boy, or by the dog tags I could read through my blurred vision Luke, grabbed my arm and pulled me back on my feet. "You can't spray and pray like that." he said, popping from cover, firing, and going back into cover. I saw the man on the farthest left fling against the barbed fences only to get tangled in it, a large shot gun sized hole in his stomach. Seizing the opportunity, I vaulted over my cover, the men next to me doing the same.

I screamed and barred my teeth as I charged the man, readying my rifle for a swing. The man clipped me in the shoulder but I had such an adrenalin rush I didn't even notice. Once in distance, I swung my assault rifle at him. The barrel hit him where the maulers are and as the rest of the gun followed to his cheek, I saw something white leave his mouth followed by a stream of goopy crimson blood. My rifle cracked as it left his head, the sound ringing through my ear like a ghost. He slammed against the NCR prison doors, making a loud COOOOOONG! as his legs gave way under him. The other two prisoners were dealt with by Luke and the guy who got up next to me during the charge. The baton and small arms men had reached our group of 8 at the sand bags and all I could see was swinging, punching, stabbing and shoot. Blood spurted onto the sandbags, slowly dripping down them. I turned and raised my gun to the hinges and fired, a metallic ring deafening my ears.

Luke kicked the door down, it crashing to the floor, sending a ploom of tan dust into the air. The only light in the small building was swinging violently as we stepped cautiously inside, guns raised. A man lay in the wooden chair next to the door, a knife going through the cowboy hat on his head. I gripped his shoulder, feeling the odd coldness of him, and pushed him to the ground. He gave way and tumbled, clearly showing he was dead. I turned my attention to the two rooms ahead, one left, one right. I went to the left one, pressing my door against the concrete frame around it. Luke and the other soldier readied at the other door. I stomped twice and everything slowed down. I run in front of the door and shot my leg forward. When my foot hit the wooden door, a bolt of pain shot through my ankle to my calf. The door gave way, the top handle exploding into a bunch of little metal pieces. I had put a dented crack in the wooden door as well. It swung up, showing a man sitting at a desk, his 357 raised.

He began to speak, but I'd learned better then to let people have last words in the wasteland. I began shooting, fire spitting from my barrel like the devils mouth. A bullet hit him in the stomach, sending a gush of red blood flying across the room into the wall. This caused his chair to swivel, making him turn at a thirty five degree angle. My next shot hit him in the shoulder, showing me pink flesh and bone sticking from his skin. The chair flipped under him and he was sent into a roll on the floor, hitting the wall with a thud. He shot one leg in the air, the life draining from him at an alarming rate as blood stained the walls. He went limp, his leg still leaned against the wall, just as Luke tapped me on the shoulder and told me it was time to go.

The three of us ran out of the front door, seeing three rather tired NCR soldiers leaning against a rock. Corpses littered the ground, half the sand bag barricade toppled over by a dead man's corpse. They looked over at me as two men walked into the area, carrying a soldier by the arms and legs, blood splattered all over his face and chest. They moved him into the building as everyone began to look around. We were it. There were wounded out there, but few. We were all that was left, all those recruits, it was just us. This is what happens when you send children to fight a war. I stepped inside, grabbing a Sunset Sarsaparilla. I popped the cap on the table and took a swig, sitting down in chair and sticking my feet on the table across from where the cowboy with a knife in his head once sat. Still, through this battle, this fight, my heartache was the only thing on my mind.

The sun was beginning to rise as I'd been informed by Luke we'd held the fort for 6 hours without any more conflict. I was just wearing a white T shirt and cargos, still exhausted from the fight. We had only five injured, one of which died recently when we tried to extract a bullet from his gut. The injured lay in the main room, on make shift beds we found lying around. I leaned in the door way as I saw about twenty NCR marching down the road, a ranger leading them. The ranger approached me and saluted.

"Well done soldier, we've got it from here." he said casually as his soldiers began fortify the area and piling corpses up for either burial or burning. I just casually picked my gear up and started walking down the road to my camp. I walked along the old road, looking to my right and left. Mountains were off in the distance, a few cactus dotted around. I saw a dried lake, filled with god knows what waiting to kill me, and kept on walking. A tumbleweed bounced across the road as I finally arrived back at camp. I was greeted with clapping and salutes. Most of these guys were veterans, and proud of my accomplishment. I was greeted with hot food and enough Nuka-Cola to split my stomach open. I gorged myself until the point of near vomiting.

I did some hand to hand training, trying to burn off the food. An older well tanned man, mostly likely Hispanic, stepped into the human circle. We raised our fists and danced around. He threw a right hook to my head as I raised my forearm to meet his, blocking the punch. I punched him in the stomach twice, sending him back a foot as I wrapped my blocking hand around his shoulder. I slid my leg behind his and brought him to the ground. He laughed, letting his head fall into the dirt, sending a small ploom of dust into the air. I laughed as I got up, grabbing him by the shirt and helping him up. I dusted off his back and continued to beat up three others before going back to bed. Man was I tired...

The next morning, a man walked into my tent, shaking me awake. I groaned but got up, learning what happened to those who sleep in (a kick in the head and a blaring radio to your ear). I made my way over to the C.O.s office, who'd I learned that the rangers name was Col. Sanders, and walked into his office. I gave a stiff salute and saw him leaned over a map, studying it. He looked up and returned the salute. "Alright," he began "that victory over the prison sent the Powder Gangers on the run. They're corned up in Good Springs, holding the town up. I'm planning on sending about 20 men to put them down, you and that Luke kid included. Now, y'see, here's what we're going to do..."

He went on to show me a map of the town. We were taking a road in that lead through a few houses straight to the saloon and merchant shop. There was a gas station and a doctor's office, and judging by the slant of the hill there'll most likely be a sniper up in the docs office. Twenty men was a bit much, but it'll help against 30 powder gangers for sure. From Intel given, the NCR believes that the surviving hostages of the town- Who have been identified as Sunny Smiles, Doc Mitchell, and a man named Roy who just tended to the crops next to the saloon- are being kept in the saloon. Most of the Powder Gangers are spread out in the few houses around the saloon. Fresh water's already been cut off for them, and we're hoping to strike them when they were weak and thirsty. Our orders were strict; No survivors. Three days later, I was back with Luke again, a gun pointed at my head.


	4. Dynamite Fight

Chapter 4: Dynamite fight

About thirty minutes before I had a gun to my head, I was belly crawling across the road with Luke and the another soldier assigned to come with us, his name was Marty. He was a small guy, very tan, and had a thick mustache on his face. Nice guy, he was a bit of a veteran. Anyway, back to where we were. The moon was showing its light on the road, making it glow a blue excellence. The perfect night for a shootout with thirty men.

The landscape on the way to Good Springs was a bit awkward. One road went straight into the town, sure, that's where the other 19 men were going. But we were moving along the road, traveling the water lines. It was one giant rocky step after the other, making us have to go up a steep slant in the gravel to make it to the docs house. We eventually did, of course. We hid along the fence line and saw a man come out. He stepped out from the gate, leaving it open, and walked over to us. He walked right past us- the idiot- and started pissin' right there in a bush across from us. Luke walked up behind him, his boots making a very small crunching noise on the gravel. My heart beat sped, but time started to slow down.

Luke wrapped an arm around the man's throat and slammed him onto the gravel. The man flailed around violently, making a bit of a commotion. Luke wrapped his legs around the man's waist and turned him so his face dug into the dirt. He readied himself on top of the man in one quick, gushy, blood curdling crunch, the man was dead. Luke dislocated the man's skull from its spine, causing the man to strangely show no visible injury if you don't count the way his head moved around on a swivel. Marty began to hoist the man's body over the cliff when we heard the click-clack of a 9mm.

We turned around and in almost no time fire spat from the gun. The bullet whizzed past me as I leaped to my feet and charged the man. He fired another shot, this one grazing my shoulder, as I leaped at him. I wrapped my arms around him and brought him to the ground, a painful groan leaving the both of us. I slammed my head into his several times, hearing the hollow whack of skulls in the night. It took ten times before he was out cold. I hit him one more time "for good luck" before drawing my blade. I pressed it against his throat, his face limp. I looked back and saw Luke huddled over Marty, hearing muffled groans. I looked beyond them to see the saloon as several powder gangers stood behind sand bags, shouting at the night ahead of them. clearly our plan didn't go accordingly.

Luke threw Marty over his shoulder and began to go back down the giant stone steps. I was alone and had to do this job myself. I raised my assault rifle and half stepped half leaped over the fence, making as little noise as possible. I opened the front door slowly and stepped inside. I saw a hall way with three entrances. There were two openings on the right wall, one at the beginning and one at the end, that lead to the same room which appeared to be a doctor's office. The opening to the left was a hallway, a yellow light laminating from it.

I pressed my shoulder against the first right opening and made sure my gun was ready to fire. I peeked inside and saw one man in the window, a sniper rifle held out. I wondered why he hadn't reacted to the 9mm gunshots and saw ear plugs in the man's. I slowly began to creep across the floor, setting my assault rifle onto my back. I pulled out my trench knife, drawing closer across the floor. I was so close that the moon glowed on both of us when he turned around and kicked me in the face. My vision showed the room dancing around me, a loud buzz in my ear. I slipped under my feet, even though I was crouching, causing my foot to knock a crate of Sunset Sarsaparilla onto the floor, bottles everywhere. The man aimed his barrel at my face, so close that it was the only non-blurred thing in the room. He was talking in a harsh thick southern accent, but I couldn't make hide-nor-hair of what he was saying through all the buzzing. So, there I was. A gun to my head.

I assumed he was making threats, but then I got my chance. Gunfire rippled outside, cutting the peaceful silence of the desert night air. The sniper turned his head to look to the noise and I took the opportunity to swipe him off his feet. I brought my boot around quickly at his ankle, causing him to thump, making the floor rattle. His gun slid away from him, but it was too far away for me to grab. I stumbled to my feet as he sprawled out, crawling to his gun. He got on his feet but I wasted no time and body checked him into a rack of medical supplies. He flew into the rack like a human sized sack of potatoes, making something fall over in the hall way on the other side of the house. He flew onto the floor violently, his face limp in the dusty wooden floor.

I walked over to his sniper rifle (which I indentified to be a 308. Hunting rifle with as cope), rubbing my shoulder- now soar from ramming him- and walked over to his window. I crouched down, set the rifle on the window ceil, and looked out into the battle field. The NCR were still out beyond my line of sight as there was a small mound of dirt in front of this doctors house. I aimed the rifle over to the Powder Gangers set up. I counted ten, meaning there were ten more somewhere- Well, nineteen. I took a moment to notice what gun I was using. It was a standard sniper rifle, small rust starting at the barrel, five rounds a clip. I looked around for a box of ammunition and luckily I found one, full of about 10 sniper magazines. I kept it next to me leg and went back to aiming. I trained my sights on what appeared to be the leader, he was on the saloon steps, yelling out commands to the other men. He had short brown hair and was wearing NCR body armor, so a head shot was needed.

I trained the cross hairs on his head, relaxed my muscles, and started to squeeze the trigger... CLICK! Huh? Why didn't it go off? Oh, right, I need to load a bullet into the chamber. I racked a round into the chamber with a loud CLICK-CLACK and readied my sights again, repeating my warm up to shooting. I squeezed the trigger back and time seemed to slow down. The bullet left the sniper rifles barrel, causing a pillar of flames to fall behind it. It traveled through the dusty desert air and pierced their leader in the forehead, a direct hit. As it went out of the other side, I could see his legs go limp. He flipped over his sand bag cover, blood squirting from his head like drinking fountain, and he hit the ground with a thud I thought I could hear.

It sent dust flying into the air, causing one man to cover his eyes, also causing him to rise from his cover just enough. Before I could even get my sights on him the NCR, out of my line of sight, opened up. Bullets ripped through his chest like water through a spiders web. I saw blood splatter all over one of the saloon windows as he tumbled to the ground. The remaining five powder gangers decided to make a break for the gas station; right next to where I was sniping. They started running for it, quickly cutting off the NCRs line of fire. They moved in a straight line, rushing for the gas station. I leveled my sights up on the leading man, a tall African American with short black hair wearing only a sling of dynamite and black pants with boots, leveling the cross hairs on where his heart should be. I squeezed back the trigger and watched the bullet go, the rifle rocking back in my arms.

I watched him stumble a few feet before face planting in the road, dead on the spot. Unfortunately I had forgotten the other four men were armed with guns. I saw all of them stop and turn to me, raising their guns. I identified their weapons from left to right- A 9mm SMG, a 10mm Pistol, a Varmint rifle, and a service rifle. I turned and dived to the floor as bullets began to rip through the windows. I hit the ground and covered my head, glass shattering down on it. I started to crawl to the room with a couch and a musical stand, hearing bullets whiz over my head and the splintering of wood. I got up briefly and dived behind the couch, the bullets continuing to rip through the building. Finally the gunfire stopped as I heard one of them yell "Oh shit, sniper in the saloon! Sniper in the saloon!"

I heard the crack of a rifle from somewhere in the town and then silence. I waited through the silence, hiding behind the couch, watching the sniping room with the unconscious sniper and patients bed and the hallway with a doorway opening up to another part of the house and the front door. The front door flew open as the three men ran inside. The one with the 9mm tumbled through the door first, falling on his knees and crawling over to the couch. I blind fired from my hip, the bullet splitting into his shoulder. He howled as he rolled into the patients room, the next man stumbling in, blood splattered on his face. He raised his SMG up to me and sprayed bullets. I winced a bit and turned my head, blind firing my weapon again from my hip. I looked back briefly to see the bullet had hit him in the chest as he tumbled back through the door. Finally the last man came in, 10mm in hand. He looked up to me and before he could raise his gun there was another crack of a rifle. The front end of his head shattered open and blood painted the right side wall as he fell half way into the house.

I watched the gored hall way, remembering there was one more man out there. I then realized that he was most likely shot by this mystery sniper and I brought my attention to the man I shot in the shoulder. I could hear him in the patients room, fumbling around, muttering to himself that he needed a stimpack, where was stimpack, he needs a fucking stimpack. I slowly raised from cover, seeing him by the chem set in the room, fumbling through cabinets and boxes, frantically searching for a med kit. I snuck into the hall way, going to the doorway that entered the patients room. I hid against it and peered in, seeing he had almost completely forgotten about me. I started to sneak into the room, my boots making almost no noise at all on the floor. As I got close to him, I saw him turn around. He blazed 9mm rounds at me, one hitting me in the arm. I fell on my back, screaming at the bullet as bullets flew over my head. Two hit the vigor tester machine behind me, making the glass shatter onto the floor. I raised my rifle in my arms, looking down the barrel, not having time for the scope.

I fired the bullet, watching it eject almost in slow motion from the end of my barrel. It hit the barrel of his gun, causing it to fly out of his hands. The gun came apart, causing springs and shards of metal to fly in different directions. The bullet continued on its path, hitting the man in the chest. It went through the middle of his chest and came right out the other side, causing a red stain to appear on his blue jacket. He stared at me blankly for a second as the gunshot died down to silence and the pieces of the gun settled into where ever they had landed. He opened his mouth, a steady stream of blood beginning to come from it. He gargled a few words as he fell on his knees. He made another gargle, falling on his face, his head inches from my boot. And like that, it was over. The great shootout in Good Springs. The Dynamite Fight.

I just sat there for a moment, taking in the fact I'd been shot in my right arm. I looked down at it, the forming red spot on my right bicep. I let go of my gun, letting it fall next to my leg with a metallic CLANG! Then I reminded myself I was in a doctors house. There must of been tons of supplies in here! I crawled over to the scattered mess of supplies on the ground around the area I had tossed the man into. I was able to get two stimpacks, a bottle of vodka, some bandages, and tweezers. I cleared away the glass and leaned against the vigor tester machine, looking at the supplies in my lap. I took off my vest, then my shirt, then my under white T-shirt. I was naked from the waist up now, not realizing how white a combat situation like this can make you. It was time to fix myself up.

I grabbed the stimpack, injecting the needle into the crotch of my arm and squeezed the plunger down. A numbness began to battle the pain in my arm and eventually left it with a tingling warm feeling. Helluva lot better than a throbbing, burning pain. I picked up the tweezers, not looking forward to the following. I looked to the red hole in my bicep, a steady stream of red pouring from it. I stuck the tweezers in, feeling the sting even through a stimpack, hearing the sloshing of blood and meat straight through my bones. I grabbed the bullet, eventually being able to clamp down onto it. I then yanked the tweezers out, a spray of blood going across my arm and even onto my pants.

I was dizzy and sick at the sight of my own gore but I moved on. I tightly wrapped my arm up in a bandage, a bit of red still showing through. I threw on my shirt and vest, wondering why the hell no one has found me yet. I walked over to the man I had knocked unconscious and put his hands behind his back. I roped his hands together and threw him over my shoulder, my service rifle in the other. I stepped over the bodies in the hallway, accidently stepping on one man's arm. I looked to the road by the gas station and sure enough I saw a man with half his head blown off by the mysterious sniper. I stumbled through the front gate of the doctor's office, pushing it open weekly. I stumbled left, almost falling down the short path up to the doctor's house. I shuffled over to the sand bags of the saloon, just as the other 13 men were walking over to the sand bags. Seven guys actually died in this whole situation? Weird...

It was kind of funny, standing here, looking at the bullet hole ridden buildings that would have been my home. A saloon with a shop next to it, a few houses in front of them, and a doctor's office up on a small hill with an abandoned gas station. The door to the saloon was locked tight as a few men were knocking, trying to get in. Luke ran up to me, looking over at my arm. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

"What does it look like? I got shot moron." I responded with a sly grin. He patted me on the back as we stepped up to the saloon doors. I moved the men aside and knocked for myself. "Sniper, I know you're in there," I began "and we're not here to hurt you. God knows you'd blow these boys heads off in one shot. We're here to help, come to treat any wounded and feed any hungry. A noble thing to do for such a small town if I do say so myself..." I did not mention how I could of been killed in this shootout if things had not gone the way they had on the ride into the Mojave.

There was a pause as I waited by the door, but then it opened. Before me stood a tanned woman wearing combat armor with dark red hair. If my info holo-tape on this town was correct, this was Sunny Smiles. "Alright. We got three that've been shot, one in pretty critical condition. We only have 2 others that aren't hurt or dead. I still think a few of our people are out there. I have their photos and I am ordering you- and yes, I am giving the NCR an order so shut up and listen- to go find them and bring them back. Dead or alive. It don't matter anyway..." she lowered her head and walked back inside the saloon. A few of our medics marched inside to assess the situation but Luke and I hung back.

"Y'know, before my caravan blew up and I was forced into the NCR, this was where me and Mar... Ma..." I was choking up on her name "my sweetheart and I were going to live." He gave me a pat on the back, this being about the only real support he could give in this situation.

"C'mon buddy, we got a job to d- Wait, weren't there thirty powder gangers?" Just as he said that, the gas station erupted in flames, then exploded with a tremendous force that send vibrations shooting through the ground. Luke and I watched in awe until the man next to us sent a spray of blood out of the side of his head, then tumbled into the street, doing a slight role before going limp. Without hesitation, I dived into the sand bags, grunting at the returning throb in my arm. While everyone scurried to find a place to hide I pulled a stimpack out of my go-pack and slammed it through the hole in my shirt into my arm. I injected it, the numbing juices flowing through me. I tossed the needle aside and was brought back into reality.

Luke and three other men were at the sand bags, five medics were inside, and the remaining five men were making a break to the doctors house. Luke and I popped out of the sand bags, firing somewhat to the left and middle of the road- Where the NCR Correctional Facility used to be and also where they were coming from. We just fired blindly into the night, hearing a few bullets whiz past us. We saw the men make it to the doctor's office and watched three of them go out down the mountain, the way Luke and I had came. The men in the doctor's office popped out holding grenade launchers, a little toy I seemed to of missed when I'd had a bit of a tussle with the sniper there. The gas station was still a bright burning light, pre-war fuel keeping it alive.

I popped back up the barrier, catching two men running across the road. Luke, the three men, the two grenadiers and I all fired at once. I saw one rack his limbs a bit before rolling onto the ground. The other got clipped in the leg, then the arm, and just before he made it into the safety of the cattle pen a grenade landed right in front of me, sending him flying back the way he came and smashing against a rock, rolling onto the street, and letting a red pool fill up around him. Another ganger ran out to him, screaming a name which I presumed was his. He crouched next to his body, shaking it, and of course I heard two cracks of a rifle next to me. One brushed over his head, but the other hit him right in the side of the ribs, a steady stream of blood pouring out. He remained still on his knees, slowly clutching the wound at his side and looking at the blood marks on his finger tips. He slowly tumbled forward onto the other corpse, going into a dead limp I've seen so many others do.

Six men at the sand bags, two grenadier at the docs office, five medics doing their job, and seventeen very angry powder gangers. GAME ON! Almost as those two words appeared in my mind, a hoard of pistol, machete, and varmint rifle wielding men bolted out of the mountain, over thee dead bodies, and right for our sand bags. The bullets whizzed past us like crazy at first, causing everyone to flinch into cover. After regaining our courage, we popped back over cover and fired back. Over the short distance, it was quickly a massacre. The first row of men dropped immediately from the fire from the sand bags, six men face planting onto the ground. After revealing the first line of gangers, they fired at the bags. A bullet whizzed past my ear, a burning sensation coming over it, my ear beginning to ring. I tumbled onto the ground back first, cupping my ear, only ringing could be heard. I looked over to see a mans face staring right back at me, one of the dead powder gangers. This snapped me back into reality.

I popped back up to the sand bags to see that only nine men had remained, but they were right at the sand bags. Luke and the others ducked under the sand bags, waiting for the gangers to try and come over but it was too late for me. I looked forward and was greeted with a boot. I threw my arms up, my rifle flying off somewhere, and back into the dirt again. I sprawled back as a man over the sand bags charged me with a machete, Luke and the others being occupied with the other eight gangers. The man swung straight for my neck and I managed to dodge it just enough, I could even feel the air following the blade. I brought my boots to his wrist, wrapping my legs in a vice grip around his arm. I pulled him forward enough to see he was going to trip into me, then slipped a boot from his arm to his stomach. I launched my hand out to grab his wrist and, using his momentum and the strength in my leg, I launched him into the air and over me. I heard him thud against the porch, giving me time to get on my knees, then crawl onto the parch. He was face first in the old wood, trying to get up after landing head first into the chair, the shattered pieces of it lying about. I saw the machete in his hand, loosely being held. I bolted over to it, slamming my hand down on his. He looked over to me in surprise and horror, I returned this stare with a fist.

I gave him a good sucker punch to the nose, causing him to fall on his side. I slipped the blade from his hand as he did this, he then using his hands to cover his nose in pain. I bolted over to him, flipping him on his back, climbing on top of him and pinning him to the ground. He grabbed my bicep and my leg in an attempt to pull me of but by then it was far too late. I slid the blade into his stomach, watching the open mouth look of shock come over him. He just stared at me, his grip getting lighter and lighter until his hands fell onto the porch and his eyes slowly closed. It was then I noticed the fighting behind me had stopped. I left the blade in his stomach as I stood up over his body and turned my head. Luke was tending to an NCR soldier, a good sized gash across his face. The rest was just a collection of four NCR corpses and eight powder gangers, strewed out among the sand bags. Talk about close quarters combat. Luke looked up at me, showing me his split lip and black eye. "Help me get this man to a medic, I think he broke his ribs." Luke said. I stumbled over, my mind still in shock from how quick the events had happened. How long has it been since I arrived at the docs house? Ten minutes? Five?

I grabbed both the mans ankles, Luke grabbing his wrists. Under further examination, I noted that this man had been slashed across the face, though this was a minor wound, and stabbed in the rib cage, though the blade seemed to miss anything important. We picked him up, he returned with a loud groan. A medic opened the door for us as we hauled him inside. We set him on a pool table in the middle of the room, the medic going over to treat him. I looked around to see the people who would have been my neighbors. A fairly beaten woman in leather armor, leaning against the wall. Several men and women in farming outfits, maybe four people. An older gentleman standing by the back door. He looked like a doctor, so I assumed he was. There was also two bodies covered in white sheets. For a town this small, two dead must be a great tragedy. The place smelt old and musty, but I could also smell the fear in the air. It was a sick, awful smell.

We were done here, the powder gangers were all dead, the town was safe... Enough. The casualties had been sustained and my job was over. Luke walked over to me, his eye already swollen. "Hey pal, how you holdin' up?" Luke asked in a weakened voice.

"I've been worse Luke." I responded, this bringing a smile to both of our dirty, bloody faces.

"Well, the medics are goin' to shoot me up full of Med-X and haul my unconscious body back to the FOB. I'm sure, once you get there, you'll have new orders. Heh... Guess you passed your training, buddy." We both began to laugh, but we knew what was going to happen. I had showed true valor in the field of combat and the war between Caesar's Legion and the NCR was coming to a brink. I was going to have a role to play in this, and Luke was going to be seen as just another grunt. In a way, this was goodbye. At least goodbye from serving together. We threw our arms around the other, patting their back in a brother to brother hug. We both took a step back, me saluting, him returning the salute. Without another word, he walked toward the medics, and I walked out the door...


End file.
